A Faithful Death Eater
by Scarlett Hawkson
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange sits in her cell, waiting for the Dark Lord.


_A Faithful Servant _

I am my Lord's most faithful servant.

No other servant has served him as well as I have. I have risked everything- _everything _for him. I sit in this cell, this disgusting enclosed area that smells awful because I serve him. Other Death Eaters aren't all that loyal anymore. They're afraid. They pretend to be on the other side. Traitors. Cowards. Bastards. I cannot call them enough names. They deserve to be tortured, killed for what they have done. They think that they are safe now that they have apparently switched sides. They have such pathetic stories.

I often tick them off on my fingers one by one. It helps the time go by. Malfoy, Snape, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, McNair, Nott, Pettigrew and so many others. They will pay when the Dark Lord returns. Those traitors truly believe that he is gone. But _I _know that he is still out there… waiting. When he returns he will reward his faithful servants beyond our wildest dreams. I scarcely dare to think of what prizes he has in store for us. The Dark Lord has always said that the faithful will be rewarded.

But yet I wait. I have been in this cell for many years now. My beauty is fading. When I touch my cheek it is hollow, my skin is becoming wrinkled, and it is not smooth as it once was. My stomach feels emptier by the day and those dementors make me feel cold inside. They make me feel sick right down to my stomach. On the outside I am freezing. I have no blankets, only my prisoner robes. I'm all alone in my cell and I am sometimes overcome with such loneliness that I am almost completely desperate.

But I am never hopeless. I know that my Lord will come for me. He will rescue me for I am his most faithful servant. He has often said so. He has addressed me as his most valuable Death Eater. The Dark Lord calls me Bella, too. Only him, Cissy and Rudolphus call me Bella. It is a special name, that only few may call me. He addresses the rest of his Death Eaters by their last names. But not me. I am different. I am my Lord's most faithful Death Eater.

I sometimes think of the reason that I'm here in Azkaban. It his because of him, of course. I tortured silly Alice Longbottom to insanity! I used to tease her at school. She was so sensitive, so bleak back then. She was just a plump, shy Gryffindor who blushed easily. I was a beautiful, clever Slytherin who knew just what to say and when to say it. I thought that it would be easy to get her to talk. But I was wrong. Towards the end she remained strong and defiant. Two qualities I never thought she possessed.

But even now I am the luckier one. I would rather rot away in my cell, knowing that my Lord will come than to be insane! But yet, I remember the event as clearly as if it were yesterday…

_It was a cold night for October. The wind was harsh on my face, and my hair had escaped my tight bun and was blowing around. I held my wand steady, determined. _

"_This is the place," Barty said, pointing to a rather ordinary middle class muggle home. Small flowerpots lined the front porch, and baby toys were cast randomly about. _

_We stood, just staring for a few minutes at the house, the wind whistling in my ears. "Come on," I said firmly. "We'd better do it now." _

_They followed my lead up the porch steps and to the front door. _

Yes, it was I, the Dark Lord's most faithful servant who lead the others up to the porch. Had it not been because of me, Alice would probably still be tending her ridiculous little flowerpots, and the deed would never have been done.

_Her face was contorted in pain. "STOP!" she screamed. Laughing, I lowered my wand. _

"_Will you speak now?" _

_Alice was sprawled out on her own living room floor, her left leg twisted, and her hair tangled. She breathed heavily and looked me straight in the eye, her expression menacing. _

"_Never." _

The thing that annoys me the most about Alice's bravery is that in some ways she reminds me almost of myself. I would have suffered all that pain and more for my lord. They can lock me up in cells, frighten me with dementors, but I will always remain faithful to the Dark Lord.

For I am his most faithful servant, his most loved Death Eater, his Bella. I will never let him down, never disappoint him. I never have.

Yet the dementors still hurt me, still bring up the worst memories, memories I had hoped to forget. Memories I had pushed to the back of my mind not to be thought about, prodded in, or even reminded of.

"_Druella! Get out!" It was my father's voice, roaring throughout the whole house. Narcissa and myself were lying awake in our beds at night, looking at each other, frightened of what was happening. _

"_Please, Cygnus!" My mothers voice, a pleading one. "Let me understand! We've been married so long that-"_

"_There's nothing to understand." My father's voice had a cold finality to it that me shudder. _

"_There's another woman, isn't there?" My mother's voice was filled with dread, and Narcissa and I exchanged confused glances. _

_We never mentioned it. _

I shall never learn to understand those memories. They come and go; sometimes they leave and are replaced with another one before I even understand the meaning of the first one.

But I will survive Azkaban. No matter what trials they put me through, I will survive. It will all end, eventually.

The Dark Lord will return, and I will be given power beyond my wildest dreams, beyond anything I ever hoped or wished for. That is why I hold out. Because I know that my Lord will come and save me, rescue me from this hell. I know it as surely as I sit here, curled up in a corner of my cell, trying to keep warm. They can torture me in any way they want but I will never betray my destiny- rejoining with the Dark Lord.

I pull up my sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark. It is beautiful. One day it will blacken so that we will all know that he has returned. I caress it softly. It is a symbol of my hope, my dream. It _will _happen. It will, it will, it will! Once I am out of here I will blossom as quickly as a winter aconite.

_I stood over a body, my wand in my hand. I couldn't bring myself to say or do anything. I couldn't move, I was frozen to the spot, staring into his blank eyes. I felt numb, so numb that I was oblivious to feeling. I knew that the ministry officials would be arriving soon, but I stood rooted to the spot, like a statue. I had committed my first murder._

I will be rewarded by the Dark Lord. I will survive this. He will rescue me soon. One day, suddenly, he will appear like a snowdrop in spring to save me.

Because I am my Lord's most faithful servant.


End file.
